


Eighteen

by Souliebird



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:15:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim could count the number of times he had celebrated his birthday on one hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighteen

Tim tried to not feel too disappointed. It wasn't hard. He couldn't remember the last time he had celebrated his birthday, though, to be fair, he could count the number of times he had actually celebrated it on one hand. 

He knew it wasn't a big deal. The Earth had made yet another trip around the Sun that coincided with the day he had been born. He had new scars, had learned interesting things, had lost people, had gained friends, had a magnificent mental breakdown, and had almost found the true meaning of Christmas. He was now legally able to vote, buy cigarettes, rent a hotel room, and go to war; all of which he had already done, under various names. 

There was nothing spectacular about the date to Tim, and he had pushed the minor significance to the back of his mind, treating the day like any other until Alfred had called him. 

The man Tim thought of as a grandfather had profusely apologized; he, Bruce, and Damian were out of the country, and though Alfred had planned for them to be back in time for Tim's birthday, things had changed. Alfred promised to make it up to Tim, but he didn't expect it, or want it really. Tim's birthday was a forgotten event by the others, and Tim preferred it that way; one 'gift' from Bruce had been enough for one lifetime. 

But there was still a childish disappointment inside of him, ingrained, he suspected, by society. The lack of acknowledgment made him doubt himself. Did the others not care enough about him to remember? Had he done something wrong to warrant them ignoring it? He knew that birthdays were celebrated among their Family. Dick had gathered a group for drinks, which Tim hadn't been invited to, Damian had been showered in weird gifts, and for Alfred's birthday pretty much anyone who operated under a Bat symbol in Gotham had shown up for breakfast, with Cassandra having flown in from Hong Kong to attend.

To only have received one phone call hurt in a way Tim tried to not think about. He was used to the absence of birthday well wishes, it really shouldn't have bothered him the way it did. People had forgotten about him all of his life, why would this year have been any different?

For a brief moment, Tim had contemplated skipping out on patrol. He thought about doing something nice for himself, maybe going to one of those late night showings of bad horror movie, or taking his motorcycle out into the country side and really make it purr for him, or even getting take out and losing himself in a video game until the sun came up. 

But any of that would be irresponsible. Red Robin had to pick up the slack to make sure that Batman and Robin's presence would not be missed. 

Tim told himself, as he fired a grappling hook into the night, that he wouldn't be bitter about it. 

He expected the night to be active, to not even have a moment's rest, but it was the exact opposite. Everywhere Tim flew was as peaceful as Gotham got, and there was nothing on the police scanners that would have required his involvement. The only screams he heard were ones of laughter. 

The lack of activity only made Tim frustrated and pushed him deeper into his thoughts. It was like Gotham was mocking him, telling him not only had he been forgotten about but that he also was not even needed to protect the city. 

He became desperate, going outside of the patrol routes he had planned for himself. He finally found something worth interfering in, diving almost head first, and rather stupidly, into a gang brawl near the edges of Park Row. The need for some sort of internal validation made him sloppy and earned him a slash to the side and a bullet graze to his thigh, among various scrapes and bruises, but in the end he was the last one standing. 

It left him feeling empty and angry with himself. He had let his emotions get the best of him, something he knew better than to allow. He thought about all of his faults during the fight in his mind as he zip tied the downed gang members, berating himself over each one. Batman would have been disappointed in Red Robin and really, it was no wonder something like his birthday was not worth remembering. Not when Tim made mistakes he had. 

Tim returned to his original route, steeling his emotions over so they would not become a distraction and burying them deep inside himself. 

He had two more encounters that would warrant a place in his nightly report, a mugging and a robbery of a corner store, both of which he stopped with text book precision, if there was a textbook for such a thing. 

As Tim returned to his loft, he felt hollow inside. The only thing to show for his birthday were a pair of wounds that might require stitches and would surely scar. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and move on to the next day. The next day wouldn't hurt, the next day he could go back to the illusion that the people he cared the most about thought of him in the same way. 

Tim stumbled as landed on the building opposite the one he lived in. Jason Todd was standing on Tim's fire escape, hands on his Red Hood helmet like he had just put it back on. Tim watched as the older man looked over his shoulder into Tim's apartment, nodded to himself, then disappeared into the shadows. 

Panic shot through Tim. Had Jason heard Tim had been so close to his part of town and had come to seek some sort of retribution? It would make sense; Jason had calmed down in terms of his violence, and he had become rather civil towards the Family, even attending Alfred's birthday breakfast and willing to go on team patrols when the need called for it, but one wrong thing could still set him off. Tim had seen firsthand how someone trying to interfere with Jason's claimed part of town had turned out, and it had not been pretty. 

Tim did not dare to go near his loft until he was sure Jason was long gone. As he inspected the security around the building, he realized he never would have known Jason had been there if he had not seen him. It sent a chill up Tim's spine.

It took him an hour to confirm he would not be blown to bits for trying to open his window, and even then he was still hesitant to do so. He debated returning to the Manor for the night before pushing the thought away, knowing his curiosity would dig at him if he did not know why Jason had been in his apartment. 

Tim finally slipped inside, his heart pounding in his chest, and turned on the lights. 

He felt his jaw drop and heard himself gasp, not processing the noise as coming from his own mouth at first.

His living room table was covered in various sized packages, each covered in different styles of wrapping paper, and in the center of all the gifts, there was a small pink cake box. 

Tim didn't understand. It had to be some kind of trick. Jason Todd would not break into his loft to leave him presents on his birthday. This had to be to get his defenses down, to make Tim think that the Family had been the ones to try and surprise him, and all the boxes actually had bombs or trigger released poison in them, or something. Despite the thoughts and knowing that he shouldn't, Tim sat in front of the table and pulled the nearest gift to him. 

It was small in his hands, encased in a cheap paper with obnoxiously bright balloons on it, but Tim took his time in unwrapping it, careful to not rip any of the edges. 

The contents of the present made Tim smile for the first time in over twenty four hours. It was a small field medical kit, the perfect size to fit into one of the pouches on his Red Robin suit. The practicality of the gift stirred a warmth in Tim's chest. He set it aside after staring down at it for a minute, and unwrapped the rest of the presents with the same delicacy, his grin and the pleasant feeling in his chest growing after each reveal. 

Each gift was perfect for Tim, carefully picked out to suit his needs and personality. Along with the medical kit, he had received a book about the speculative history of Batman, a high end polish for his bo staff and preferred weapons, a plain but tailored button up in a deep red that had a thin layer of armor in it, a package of nutrient energy bars in various flavors, and a device that scanned objects, then made a three dimensional hologram of them, that doubled as a thumb drive. Finally, there was the oddly personal gift of a strange array of little items to go into his fish tank that fit the 'Sunken Gotham' theme he was going for. 

The cake box, much to Tim's delight, held a giant chocolate cupcake, with a swirl of white frosting, and was topped with a candle in the shape of the number eighteen. 

Tim lit the candle with a match, then stared at the flame, as the sun started to peek in through the window behind him. After a minute, Tim leaned forward, closing his eyes, and blew out his birthday candle, silently wishing that he could find a way to thank Jason for giving him the best birthday he had ever had.


End file.
